


Hold you right

by UpInSpace



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A little bit of angst, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Kinda, M/M, Set in canon, Song Inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24063412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UpInSpace/pseuds/UpInSpace
Summary: “Have you ever regretted it, regretted this? Choosing Seijoh?”Oikawa looks at him for a moment, eyes widening, breath stuck in his lungs and Iwaizumi waits patiently until he shakes his head, looks back to the sky. Iwaizumi traces his profile with his eyes, fingers itching to follow in their wake, brushing against his lashes and down the slope of his nose.Alternatively, It's the night before the Shiratorizawa match, and Iwaizumi is not really surprised to find Oikawa standing by his window.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Hold you right

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set just at the end of season 1, after the Karasuno match, so, basically, spoilers for that one. I'm sure I'm among the last ones to jump onto this, but better safe than sorry.  
> The title is taken from [Dermot's Kennedy Lost](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oK9wqtAwnoE), who is also the one who inspired this fic with [Rome](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=epxA7WnDLwo). Both songs are quite sad so maybe this is the way it is (?). I wouldn't say it's really sad, but I'll let you decide that.  
> I hope you'll enjoy this!

Iwaizumi groans as he wakes up. Through bleary eyes he manages to make out the time on his phone’s screen. 2 a.m. Way too early and Iwaizumi groans again as he falls back on his bed, hands covering his face. He considers ignoring the faint noises coming from his window, but he knows better than that, know better than to expect them to stop.

Sure enough, more knocking can be heard from his window, more insistent than before and Iwaizumi has no option other than leave to his comfortable bed and make his way through the dark room to reach the window.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Shittykawa, it’s two in the morning,” Iwaizumi groans with half his body out the window, the wall the only thing that keeps from toppling over.

“You’re going to wake up the whole neighbourhood,” Oikawa whispers from where he’s standing in front of Iwaizumi’s window, as if it were completely normal to be doing so.

“And whose fault would that be?” Iwaizumi replies as he rubs his eyes, mentally preparing himself for what he already knows it’s to come.

“Not mine, that’s for sure, I am not the one with the phone on silent.”

“Yeah, maybe some of us like to get some sleep during the night,” Iwaizumi retorts, trying to restrain the urge to throw something at Oikawa’s head. Momentarily satisfactory, but ultimately useless when Oikawa shouts and ends up waking the whole neighbourhood up. “Do you want to come up?” He asks instead. Oikawa shakes his head and stays where he stands, hands buried deep in his jacket’s pockets, and Iwaizumi sighs. “I hate you so much,” he mumbles as he closes the window, pushing himself off it.

He grabs whatever clothes he finds first, still grumbling under his breath, and silently exits his house, taking extra care to not wake anyone up.

Oikawa hasn’t moved from where he last saw him, jacket zipped up to his chin, tall figure bathing in the pool of light of the lamppost. Iwaizumi jogs up to him, and the sound of his steps on the deserted street seem to bring Oikawa back to Earth, blinking as he turns his body towards Iwaizumi, the movement so familiar it’s almost instinctive.

“Iwa-chan!” He starts, but whatever he is going to say is cut off by the groan that leaves his lips when Iwaizumi shoves him. “What was that for?” He whines, massaging his arm as he glares at Iwaizumi.

“That’s for waking me up, dumbass,” Iwaizumi replies. Oikawa’s expression dissolves into a pout, but even under the dim light Iwaizumi can tell he’s not fully there, his mind some place far. Iwaizumi sighs, and shakes his head. “Let’s go,” he says, pointing to their left before turning around, Oikawa in tow.

It doesn’t take them long to reach their destiny, a tiny park located not far away from their houses. The park is deserted, as it is to be expected considering the time it is, the only sound to be heard their steps as they make their way towards a small cluster of trees on the far edge of it, the wind gently blowing through the leaves and ruffling their hair.

Oikawa leans against one of the trunk of the trees, his head tilted towards the sky. It’s a clear night, the Moon shining brightly above their heads. It’s beautiful and calm, even if Iwaizumi doesn’t really get to appreciate it, not when it’s his best friend who’s dragged him there, something clearly in his mind, troubling him enough to drag Iwaizumi into it. Not that he truly minds, not really.

“What is it?” Iwaizumi finally asks, when it becomes apparent Oikawa isn’t going to say anything.

His friend looks at him for a moment, before averting his eyes and tugging at a loose thread of his trousers. Iwaizumi already has an inkling of what’s going on with Oikawa, has imagined it coming since the moment they stepped off the court after their match. He just didn’t imagine it would hit at 2 a.m.

“Are you going to talk to me or will you have me out here at ass o’clock in the morning until we freeze, Shittykawa?” He insists, and it’s enough to break Oikawa free from his reverie. It doesn’t get him much more than a look and a small twist of his lips in response, though, and that worries him. “What is it?” He repeats, taking a step closer to Oikawa, and the other sighs, shaking his head.

“We’ve won against Karasuno,” Oikawa starts. Iwaizumi nods, crossing his arms in front of his chest and leaning against a tree, too. “We’re going against Shiratorizawa tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Iwaizumi frowns, replying slowly. “We already knew this, though. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is we barely won against Karasuno,” Oikawa all but growls, his hands opening and closing by his side reflexively.

“But we won.”

“Barely.”

“But we did, Oikawa. It doesn’t matter what might have happened or what could have happened because it _didn’t_ happen. What did happen is that _we_ won, and we’re going against Shiratorizawa tomorrow. Karasuno got better, so what? It was to be expected they wouldn’t stay the flightless crow for ever. We still won, and we will tomorrow too,” he replies with a shrug.

He’s sure it’s something that’s keeping Karasuno up, too. He had seen their faces after they lost, after all. There are no words that can quite describe the expression on Kageyama and Hinata’s faces after that last spike, the look one of heartbreak and shock, but not quite there. He’s sure their loss will haunt them tonight, and the nights to come, but it’s not _their_ loss, won’t let Oikawa spin it into one just because he’s nervous.

Oikawa looks at him out of the corner of his eye, something like a smile reluctantly tugging at his lip.

“They did get better, didn’t they?” Oikawa muses, closing his eyes briefly.

The tension is still there, in the set of his shoulders and the deep lines around his mouth. The dark bags beneath his eyes stand out against the paleness of his skin, but Iwaizumi knows it’ll all be gone by the morning, no trace of the present night to be found on Oikawa’s face. It is annoying, it truly is.

“Did you expect anything else?” He replies instead. “The duo gave them new wings. It’s just a matter of time before they learn how to use them.”

And maybe they’ll be unstoppable then. Maybe it’ll be Seijoh who’ll see the match slip through their fingers, a powerhouse defeated by a newly reborn crow.

He doesn’t say it, but he knows he doesn’t have to, not when it’s Oikawa he’s talking to.

“Kageyama wants to be the best,” Oikawa says, like Iwaizumi doesn’t already know. 

It must be strange, to see oneself’s reflection on another, to know you’ve inspired someone so much they want to defeat you, a sign they’ve become better, stronger than the one who made them. He wonders what’ll happen then if the day comes, what Oikawa will do. 

He’ll probably just vow to destroy Kageyama, to see him crawl at his feet. 

The thought makes Iwaizumi want to smile.

“You’re the best,” he lets out. His words are quiet but Oikawa hears them anyway, the surprise at hearing them quickly covered by a smug grin, but not so fast that Iwaizumi doesn’t see it, the shock that tints Oikawa’s cheeks red. He may rarely speak them, but that doesn’t make his words any less true, and the setter knows that. “We’ll win tomorrow,” he reassures Oikawa.

“We’ve lost all games we’ve played against Shiratorizawa, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa replies with a tired voice. He closes his eyes briefly, most likely thinking of Ushijima’s stoic face. It’d probably be a little less bad to lose against him if he ever showed any kind of emotion, but he doesn’t, and it drives them mad.

“We’ll win tomorrow,” Iwaizumi says again, and Oikawa lets out a mirthless chuckle, but says nothing else.

Silence settled around them like a blanket, one born of years of knowing each other. It’s always been them after all. The rest came and went, but it was always them, Oikawa and Iwaizumi, setter and spiker, two against what the world may bring.

It’s reassuring, to know they’ve always had each other no matter what. It’s also enormous, almost too big to wrap one’s head around it. It scares him, the possibility of it being nothing more than a faded memory one day, even if he knows it’s a fear that will never come to be, not while he has a saying in it.

“Have you ever regretted it, regretted this? Choosing Seijoh?”

Oikawa looks at him for a moment, eyes widening, breath stuck in his lungs and Iwaizumi waits patiently until he shakes his head, looks back to the sky. Iwaizumi traces his profile with his eyes, fingers itching to follow in their wake, brushing against his lashes and down the slope of his nose.

Turning his head to stare at the sky, Iwaizumi averts his eyes, hands firmly at his side.

“Never,” Oikawa’s voice is carried by the wind, gets lot in the whispering of the leaves above them.

“Good,” Iwaizumi replies. “Because I don’t either. Ushijima might be Japan and Kageyama might be the king, but you’re the Great King, Oikawa, and it’s been an honour to play by your side. There’s nothing I’d rather be than your ace,” he feels it more than he sees it, Oikawa turning around to stare at him, surprise colouring his eyes.

There’s so much more he’d like to say, words that’d betray his selfishness, his desires, but those don’t come, stifled deep within Iwaizumi before they’re little more than the shadow of a thought. It doesn’t matter, though, not when it’s Oikawa we’re talking about, who sees through him as if he were an open book, Oikawa who’d be able to tell him apart with his eyes closed, who can map Iwaizumi’s face by heart.

There’s little more that needs to be said when those words come from Iwaizumi, who doesn’t lie, and never to Oikawa.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispers. His left hand twitches, creeping towards Iwaizumi, before he balls his fingers into a fist, hanging limply by his side. His eyes are murky, as full of clouds as the night sky is free of them, but they clear up as he looks at Iwaizumi. “Iwa-chan,” he repeats, and his voice is stronger than before.

Oikawa stands straighter than he did moments earlier, the only shadows left on his face those casted by the moon. He goes back to looking every bit the captain Iwaizumi knows he is, he who can make rivals fall to his feet, and Iwaizumi smiles.

“We’re winning this, Shittykawa,” he says, his smile widening as he catches Oikawa grinning.

Oikawa’s fingers find Iwaizumi’s, or maybe it’s the other way round, maybe it’s Iwaizumi’s that find Oikawa’s but before he knows, their fingers are tangled up, palms pressed together, and Iwaizumi’s heart beats fast, faster even than it did in their match against Karasuno. He feels breathless and euphoric and on top of the world, like he can do everything and not enough, like he’s about to burst free from his own skin and maybe that’s okay, maybe Iwaizumi will be okay with that as long as he has Oikawa by his side.

“Of course we are, Iwa-chan. They won’t know what hit them,” Oikawa replies, his grin and expression twins to Iwaizumi’s as he squeezes his hand, as if he knows exactly what goes through Iwaizumi’s head, and maybe that’s okay.

**Author's Note:**

> So. This is not my first fic, not by far, but it is my first Haikyuu fic and my first fic of this kind and this is making me more nervous than it probably should so I just hope you've enjoyed it! It's not entirely my style, but I've had it on my mind for this whole week and I needed out of my chest, so hopefully this will do and I'll be able to focus on my exams and come back stronger with the next one. Honestly I didn't even expect my first Haikyuu fic to be an Iwaoi but here we are. I just hope I did them justice (also if you do happen to read this (you know who you are), I hope you'll enjoy it and thank you for getting me into this fandom <3).  
> Regarding the setting, I'm not sure if there was a day between the matches but let's just roll with it or it won't make much sense.  
> That said, I really hope you've enjoyed this!! Hopefully I'll be back soon with more <3  
> Kudos and comments warm my heart <3


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